sX'.<K;''i''Vi*>;i*>;."ivrv''iv».,'AVi- 



rat!>a»;v5j'j«<« 



/^?^ 




SONNETS OF EDWARD. ROBESON 

TAYLOR ^ ON v'SOME;' PICTURES 
PAJNTEI) BY WILLIAM:; KEITH- 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

Chap. Copyright No. 



Shelf..*./4f?-0b 



-/^S" 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



z 
< 

Q 



I 
< 



SONNETS OF EDWARD ROBESON 
TAYLOR ON SOME PICTURES 
PAINTED BY WILLIAM KEITH 




SAN FRANCISCO: 
THE E. D. TAYLOR CO. 



Printed by 
MDCCCXCVIII 



-^! 'IZ 









Copyright, i8p8, by 
Edward Robbson Taylor 



\ 



%'b^'t>^ 



2nd CO-y, 
1898. 



TABLE OF CONTENTS 



TO WILLIAM KEITH 5 

THE GOLDEN HERITAGE OF THE 

NATIVE SONS 9 

THE JOY OF EARTH ii 

APRIL 13 

THE QUIET WOOD 15 

THE MEADOW 17 

THE ENCHANTED WOOD 19 

DAWN 21 

AT TWILIGHT TIME 23 

THE UNCEASING ROUND 25 

THE DYING YEAR 27 

THE FRUITLESS QUEST 29 



TO WILLIAM KEITH 



Master, if such halting verse as mine 

Can for a moment stay thy magic brush, 

Until mid thankfulness' religious hush 

My grateful note shall fall on ear of thine, 

1 pray thee hearken to this heart- wrought line — 

Thou constant one, whose thoughts in beauty's flush 
From w^elling fountains so unceasing gush, 
We hail thy Art as born of the divine. 

Would that my rhyme could run as does this stream 
Which on thy canvas breaks in rapturous song 
Where Spring, triumphant, bursts from every clod ! 

Then would be realized my vain, fond dream : 
To sing one bar that might be heard among 
The myriad strains that rise from earth to God. 



ON SOME PICTURES PAINTED 
BY WILLIAM KEITH 



THE GOLDEN HERITAGE OF THE NATIVE SONS 



Behold this canvas where the artist shows 
Our Golden Heritage: The sovereign Sun 
In ripened harvest sees his triumph won, 
And golden glories deepen to repose, 

Save where the laden wain an accent throws 
Of voiceful toil; afar the mountains swim; 
Great trees ensentinel the valley's rim, 
And childhood gambols where the streamlet flows. 

O children, nature here has given her best— 
So rich, no poet could its wealth proclaim 
Though dowered with words of ruby-hearted flame ; 

Knead with it best of yours; and so possessed. 

May you, faced starward, mount to summits where 
Your souls shall blossom in celestial air. 



THE JOY OF EARTH 



Who doubts the earth speaks audibly unto 
The heart of everyone that lists to hear, 
Setting its beats to music? If to thee not clear 
Her ceaseless note that rings beneath the blue; 

Or hast thou never been impelled to woo 

Her beauty-glowing forms, nor sought her ways, 
I pray thee on this breathing picture gaze, 
That Art may give thee all thy soul's best due. 

For here Earth seems with radiant joy to say: 
Behold the children born in love to me — 
These lush, deep grasses where the flowerets play 

At hide and seek; this wide-embracing tree. 

Where birds may live their little, tuneful day, 
And golden harvests that are yet to be. 



II 



APRIL 



Full many a time fair April have I seen 
Enwrapped in cloud of every lovely hue, 
With tears that fell as soft as morning dew 
On bloomy orchard and on fields of green; 

And watched her smilingly, her tears between, 
The balmy air with sun-born jewels strew. 
Till life and joy and song seemed born anew, 
To glorify with promise all the scene. 

These, and stiU more, O Master, hast thou caught 
Within the meshes of thy subtile art, 
That April there, with quickening beauties fraught, 

Might stir the languid waters of the heart, 
And make forever there all seasons hers 
To bid fulfilment crown the laboring years. 



13 



THE QUIET WOOD 



Come with me into this all-quiet wood, 

Where nought of hurry or of noise is known; 
Where lulling airs from Heaven's own peace are blown, 
To fill the heart with Rest's delicious good. 

Here we may lie on leafy couch, and brood. 
While sweet Imagination binds her zone 
Around our vagrant thoughts, and stirs alone 
The silence of this lovely solitude. 

Thou precious Art! be always thus, so we 

May compass something of thy priceless lore : 
Thy deeper truths shall set the spirit free. 

When soulless imitation rules no more. 
And where, as here, thy joyous liberty 
Gives birth to beauty never seen before. 



15 



THE MEADOW 



Today the soaring mount is not for me 

Though it should marshal all its loveliest mass, 
Or though across my tempted vision pass 
Its utmost witchery of rock and tree; 

For this lush meadow holds my heart in fee, 

Where clouds lie sleeping in its pool's clear glass. 
And w^here in comradeship with flower and grass 
No other friend than Reverie shall be. 

The Mountain trumpets with imperious voice. 
And great Ambition sits enthroned there 
With spoils that blaze in fever-laden air; 

But thou, sweet Meadow, bidst the soul rejoice 
In love of lowly and familiar things, 
And lead'st to peace's cooling, crystal springs. 



17 



THE ENCHANTED WOOD 



With moss-grown, interlocking arms that wear 
A beauty strangely true, these gnarled trees 
Rule o'er this weird demesne, where mysteries 
Seem lurking nigh in many an eerie lair. 

Silence has closed the lips of every air. 

Till hushful Rest, as though on drowsy seas, 
Floats dreaming, safe from all disease 
Of vain ambition or of mad despair. 

To some such spot as this lone Dante might 

Have brought the travail of his towering soul. 
When exile's grief had made it joy to die; 

And here Imagination, love-bedight. 

Will over us its waves enchanted roll, 
As near this naiad-haunted pool we lie. 



19 



DAWN 



The mild, alluring Night has had her time, 
For now the Sun on his resistless -way 
Beats down with mighty hand her vast array. 
And grandly up the heavens begins to climb. 

These pulsing clouds announce the King sublime ; 
Yet not with banner blazed w^ith ruby ray. 
But one whose opal lights the dawning day 
Till earth and sky in sober splendor swim. 

The birds have scarce awaked, yet man is here, 
To lay the dewy grass beneath his knife 
And bear it off upon the w^aiting wain. 

Thou new-born Day ! what grief, w^hat hope, what fear. 
Lie coiled w^ithin thy breast ; what peace, what strife, 
And w^hat ambitions that are worse than vain ! 



SSI 



AT TWILIGHT TIME 



The Sun that raged victorious through the day, 
Like conquering monarch scorntul of defeat, 
Behind the hills in unrestrained retreat 
With pauseless haste now speeds upon his way. 

He conquers still: these clouds proclaim his sway, 
That lace refulgently the lucent blue, 
And this lone-\vandering moon with crescent neAV 
Begins to glow with his reflected ray. 

The grasses tanned by summer's breath, the trees. 
The distant crag a battlement that seems. 
Lie in the arms of silence and of rest. 

The feverous day is done ; night's galaxies 

Hold yet aloof; in this mid-time what dreams 
May hover o'er us that shall make us blest! 



33 



THE UNCEASING ROUND 



In centre of the canvas see this pine 

All stark in death, with arms in vain appeal 
For what it nevermore can taste or feel 
Of joys of earth or of the heavens divine. 

Straight as in life it stands, still bearing sign 
Of noble majesty and dauntless will; 
While at its base its elder brothers spill 
Their ashes where the grasses kiss and tw^ine. 

A glorious redwood centuries have blessed 

Uptow^ers, while with bliss of life possessed 
The forest sings in grand, harmonious tone. 

And careless men pass by — the children they 
Of other children death has made his own. 
And w^ho like them shall strive and pass aw^ay. 



25 



THE DYING YEAR 



The year is on the edge of death; for see, 
These dreary branches have aheady shed 
Such myriad leaves, they lie in mounds of dead 
At foot of each sad-hearted parent tree. 

Yet, grim and stem as human soul might be, 

The scarred, gray sycamores with defiant head 
Like warriors stand, while in its shrunken bed 
The languid stream flows on resignedly. 

Life is aw^eary and in quiet here 

Would rest awhile her fever-haunted brain, 
As dreams she of the dear, departing year; 

And Melancholy, led by Memory's train, 

With softest tread shall gently come anear, 
To dew^ the ground with sacramental tear. 



27 



THE FRUITLESS QUEST 



Behold: dark, lead-like clouds made beautiful 
With myriad forms of fantasy, where light 
Breaks through their lowermost edge with forceful might. 
As if in challenge of their right to rule ; 

Two birds that fly above a sleeping pool 

In which a woman peers with aching sight, 
Where tree and grass, in mystic garment dight, 
Rest in the silence of a dreamful lull. 

O Woman! tell me what thou findest here 
In light and dark, in water, bird and tree. 
In all these grasses and their mystery. 

O Man! I am as thou: for could I peer 

Till Time made peace with Death, as now I do, 
No ray would show me the unraveling cle^v. 



29 



j^jtTWO HUNDRED COPIES OF THESE SONNETS 
WERE PRINTED IN SAN FRANCISCO AT THE 
PRINTING SHOP OF THE E. D. TAYLOR COM- 
PANY, IN THE MONTH OF MAY AND YEAR 
MDCCCXCVIII, NONE OF WHICH ARE FOR SALEjt^ 



31 



m 14 1898 



